


Live Wire

by jamiesfreckles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Car Sex, F/F, Flirting, Spies & Secret Agents, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16501241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiesfreckles/pseuds/jamiesfreckles
Summary: In which there are explosions of all kinds.“Shut the doors," Cho said.Pansy shut the doors. It didn't even occur to her to argue with that tone, and Pansy spent most of her life arguing with all sorts of tones.





	Live Wire

**Author's Note:**

> i hate the word 'panties' but i used it. femslash is the literal best thing on the planet. i love that this fest exists and i adore this prompt. i hope this counts as careers?? 
> 
> uh, warnings are just for sexual content. i tagged it as explicit because i'm not sure how to tag smut! mentions of alcohol, and if i need any other tags just let me know!

Moss-green felt was soft beneath her fingers as she played with one of the coasters on the bar. The polished surface squeaked when the barman slid a drink towards her, the glass cool to the touch and slippery with condensation. The barman winked before moving on to serve a woman in a white dress. 

If her dad knew she was drinking, Cho thought with a wry smile, he’d throw a fit. Never mind the fact that she was twenty-two now. Never mind the fact that she was in a grand hotel teeming with powerful, dangerous people, keeping an eye on an altered, highly illegal Gobstones game, and wearing a velvet dress that kept slipping down her shoulder to reveal smooth bare skin. If he knew any of that, he’d still focus on the drinking. 

Cho had never been one for drinking or gambling. She had never been one for anything more adventurous than the stories within the books on her mothers shelves. When she got her own books, as she grew, the rough plans for the future became blueprints, decisive and researched. She was going to grow up, get good grades, leave Hogwarts as Head Girl, and trot off to the Ministry to become an Unspeakable or a member of the Wizengamot. From there, she would work her way up, making a difference to the world and inspiring change. 

Or at least, that was the plan. Until there was a war, and a lot of painful death and sorrow, and she discovered that there was more than one way to make a difference in the world. You couldn’t always inspire change from behind a desk. 

_“Are you going to drink that?”_

The voice in her ear was raspy as ever, always faintly amused. Familiar enough that Cho didn’t jump when she heard it. She reached up to fiddle with the silver teardrop in her ear and felt the cool rubber of the fake skin it was pierced through. 

Expendable Ears, when experimented with, could be used as a wonderful form of communication across distances. Not too far, of course, because even magic had limits, but far enough that Cho could quietly eat peanuts at a bar whilst Pansy Parkinson sat in an idling car down the street, and neither of them would lose contact. 

George Weasley had made quite a fortune out of the product, although nobody else knew where that portion of money had come from. Very hush-hush. 

Cho pulled out a tube of lipstick and a compact mirror from the purse resting on the bar. As she painstakingly applied another layer of Allure, the deepest satin red she owned, she spoke softly enough that only Pansy could hear her. 

“How long do you think I’ve been doing this, exactly? Of course I’m not going to drink it, on account of the fact that it’s been poisoned.”

If her mouth moved a little too much, anyone watching would assume it was the result of applying lipstick. Most of the people in here were men, with the odd, greedy-eyed Goblin watching golden marbles roll across the table in the middle of the room. The golden marbles really were made of gold, but it was the powdered basilisk fang secured inside the hollow marbles that made them important, worth looking into. 

It was unlikely that they would notice anything amiss, although Cho didn't doubt that some of them were staring at her mouth. Red didn't really feel like her colour (she preferred blue or black) but that wouldn’t stop the stares. 

Pansy’s hum of disgust distracted her. _“Poison? How theatrical. I’ve always found poison to be a little lazy. Too distant. Almost tacky. The only fun way to kill someone is to get your hands a little dirty.”_

Cho smacked her lips to hide her laughter. Two years ago, and she wouldn’t have found that funny. But a year ago, Pansy offered her a cigarette in the courtyard of the establishment where they worked, and she didn't sneer or push when Cho declined. Two years ago, Cho had done one of the first violent things she’d ever done without magic when she punched Pansy unprompted during training. 

Two days ago, Pansy had helped her pick out a dress for tonight, compliments dripping off her tongue like honey and her smirk brighter than any Lumos spell. 

Now, obviously, things were different. Things had changed. 

_“There’s a door to your left. I imagine it’s guarded by some big, burly hunk of muscle. Should have a few imposing signs stamped across it.”_

The back room of the Grand Hotel was narrow, but long. Sparkling silver chandeliers filled the ceiling, throwing dazzling light on the sleek black gambling tables, the small, shifting clusters of murmuring people, and the waxy potted plants that lined the walls. Lilting music drifted from an old record player in the corner, the fuzz and crackle of almost-lost sounds chopping the quiet conversation into inaudible chunks. 

There were no doors, barring the double doors she had entered through. With a resigned sigh, she scanned the room again, and then turned reluctantly to face the bar. There, behind the bar, there was indeed a door, but there was no hunk of muscle. Cho eyed the bar between them and the rows of bottles and glasses, and thought she would have preferred the muscle; at least those could be persuaded to give, sometimes. Just the careful flutter of eyelashes, the right-pitched laugh, a hand on an arm, and often the muscle flexed just to show that it _could._

Cho lifted her drink to her mouth to obscure her next words, ignoring the sickly sweet scent of poison that drifted out of the glass. It almost smelled familiar. “I assume that you want me to go through the heavily-locked, imposing door.”

_“That’d be just grand.”_

Cho sighed, lowering the glass back to the bar. Her hand slipped down to her thigh, where her wand was hidden away in her holster. The fake wand she’d given to the man at the door with the benign smile and the twitchy fingers was a convincing copy, but a copy nonetheless. 

“You always have to make things difficult, don't you?”

A laugh shuddered through her, not her own, but equally as at home. _“I try my best, darling.”_

*

The Grand Hotel was looking a little more singed than usual, spell-smoke curling out of the shattered windows. People were pouring out onto the streets in streams, shuddering in their thin evening-wear, cursing and spluttering and screaming as they waved dainty handkerchiefs about to dispel the smoke or simply ran for it. One woman was clutching her pearls, Pansy noticed with a snort. 

Pansy tapped her wand lazily against the steering wheel, feeling the modified engine hum in response as it inched up the dark road. Her magic was everywhere, coalescing in clouds around her and around the car as she scanned the streets. The Expendable Ears weren’t working, had cut out a few minutes after the windows exploded, but Pansy wasn’t worried. Her partner was more than capable. 

Sure enough, a figure in a red dress slithered out of the alleyway beside the Grand Hotel and stormed down the street a few moments later. Pansy let the doors unlock and slide up, allowing for an untainted vision of Cho Chang descending on her in all her glorious, righteous fury. 

“You failed to mention a few things regarding what was behind that door,” Cho said tightly. Her usually straight, sophisticated hair was wild, all over the place. Smoke clung to her bare shoulders, to the tattered hem of her dress, which looked soft and welcoming despite the ash smeared over the red velvet. It looked like it would bunch nicely between Pansy’s fingers. 

“Did I?” Pansy asked, widening her eyes in mock-innocence. “Why, what did I forget?”

Another window shattered belatedly, glass tinkling as it hit the rough tarmac of the street. Several men yelled as they backed up, staggering out of range. Hectic sirens screeched in the distance. Pansy suppressed her laughter. 

“You rigged it,” Cho said, gritting her teeth. Pansy expected her to round the car, ranting, and clamber into the passenger seat to better yell at her. Instead, Cho did what she was always doing and surprised her.

She forwent the other door and crawled into Pansy’s lap instead. Pansy sucked in a ragged breath, tensing as she stared up at Cho. Cho was never forward like this. She was a little bossy, sure, but overall her temperament was calm and cool despite the fire burning in her eyes. That was why Pansy never worried about her. She never had to worry about Cho doing something stupid or impulsive, the way Daphne had to worry about Lavender Brown, the way Millie always worried about Ginny Weasley.

Now, though, the fire in Cho’s gaze was fiercely incandescent. There wasn’t much room in the car even with the modifications, but Pansy’s magic was equally as smart as Pansy herself, and the seat shifted back several inches until the steering wheel didn't dig into Cho’s spine quite so much, and there was more room to move. 

“Shut the doors.”

Pansy did. It didn't even occur to her to argue with that tone, and Pansy spent most of her life arguing with all sorts of tones. The doors snapped shut and Cho dropped a little more heavily into Pansy’s lap, a warm weight on her thighs, pressing against her stomach. Pansy didn't know what to do with her hands, taken aback, but the shock was fading fast, and now she just felt amused and excited. 

“This is new,” Pansy murmured, with a small smirk. “I _do_ love new things. In fact, I take time out of my morning every day to ensure there’ll be something new waiting for me at home that evening.”

Cho huffed out an angry breath. “I’m not a new thing, and I’m not waiting for you anywhere. Next time you want to play with your little bombs, inform me so I can book a portkey in the opposite direction. Don't tell me to walk through the door that was keeping them from blowing the place up.”

“They aren’t bombs,” Pansy said, daring to graze her hands up Cho’s thighs. It was possible she might get them hexed off, but the possible rewards far outweighed the risk in this instance. “Bombs are for Muggles and people with no imagination. My work could loosely be labelled as explosives. Highly complicated magical explosives that I developed and marketed myself, and we both know that this was exactly the kind of place where I can get away with testing them. It’s a perfect laboratory.”

She indicated the singed hotel with a jerk of her head, but Cho didn't look. Pansy took the opportunity to test her luck, and slipped her left hand further up Cho’s thigh, just under her rucked-up dress. Her fingers rested on the wand holster hidden there, playing with the edge of the warm leather band. 

“It was a hotel, not a laboratory, and it was full of people,” Cho snapped. “Criminals, yes, but still people.”

Pansy sighed, dropping her hand. “Nobody was hurt. It’s an environmental explosive. I wanted to see the impact through walls, windows, ceilings and floors, not bodies. Everyone in there drank something, didn't they?”

Cho leaned back, her eyes narrow and suspicious in the darkness. “I suppose. What does that have to do with anything?”

Pansy arched an eyebrow, waiting. Cho shifted as she thought, which didn't help but with the warmth steadily pooling inside Pansy. She _ached_ to touch, to be touch. 

“That wasn’t poison, was it?” Cho said slowly. “In my glass. It wasn’t poison.”

“Of course not,” Pansy said, with a smile as sweet as she could make it. “Lovegood has a penchant for potions, it seems. I enchanted the room so that people would be severely tempted to take a drink, I borrowed Luna’s death-defying potion, and I poured it in the special supply of champagne that was ordered for tonight.”

She shrugged delicately and tugged Cho closer, leaning back comfortably in the leather seat. 

“And if people ordered something else?” Cho asked, shifting again, although not because she was thinking this time. “Or if they _didn't_ drink?”

The last was said pointedly. Pansy’s mouth curled into a slow, lascivious smile; she didn't think they'd be talking for much longer.

“Mmm. Part of the enchantment made them crave champagne, and I put a drop of potion in the bottom of each glass just in case.” She put her hand back on Cho’s thigh and raised it even higher this time, until she found the thin edge of lace and tugged lightly. Cho breathed shakily, lifting her hips slightly so that Pansy could slip her fingers inside her panties. 

“As for ridiculous partners who don't drink,” Pansy added, murmuring the words against Cho’s lips, “I took care of that earlier when I spiked your tea.”

Cho’s outraged sound was swallowed by the gasp that punched out of her when Pansy circled her fingers lightly against her clit. Pansy sucked in a breath, not wanting to blink. She didn't want to miss a second of this. She moved her fingers slowly, rubbing with gentle, purposeful movements. It was hot and wet, and the angle was awkward, a bit cramped until Pansy's magic vanished the panties and pushed Cho’s thigh with her free hand, spreading her open. 

Cho made a soft, strangled noise and bit her lip hard. Her hair fell over them as she leaned down and kissed Pansy, smelling like smoke and tasting like cherry lipstick. 

“I know it was to keep me safe, but I can’t believe you technically drugged me,” Cho said, her voice breathy as she rolled her hips down into Pansy’s hand. Pansy moved back at the last second, earning a whine of protest, before returning to press the pad of her thumb gently back on her clit, slipping her fingers further down and resting them against her wet slit. 

“Yes you can,” Pansy murmured, her voice deep and wanting and oddly loving. “I make explosives for a living, love, and you’re what passes for a Honeyduke trap. Last month we took down a trafficking ring, and yesterday I filled Granger’s office with babbling gas and photographed the chaos. You can _absolutely_ believe I drugged you.”

Cho was much, much more than a simple Honeyduke act. She wasn’t just a seductress, a temptation, although she could be when she wanted to be. She was sharp, wickedly smart, and handy with a hex, and Pansy had never expected to get this lucky with a partner when she entered the brave new world that the aftermath of the war had created. 

“The Honeyduke act never got this far before,” Cho gasped out, shifting with a little more urgency, trying to get Pansy to push her fingers inside. Pansy had always been an obliging sort of girl, deep down. Especially when there was a pretty woman in her lap, making sounds like this. A pretty woman who once threw a sharpened stiletto at a rogue Death Eater’s balls, a pretty woman who knew seven different languages and all the Muggle chemicals on top of the Wizarding ones, a pretty woman that drank sweet tea, ate like a champ and called Pansy 'sweetheart' when she was overtired. 

“Then I’m honoured to be the first to see it come to fruition.” Pansy slipped a finger inside of her and grinned victoriously when Cho gripped her hair, making small sounds.

If the pretty woman was Cho Chang, then Pansy could be the most obliging person on the planet.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much!! <3


End file.
